


Move Me, Baby (Shake Like The Bough of A Willow Tree)

by Lyoung_50



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Inspired by a Hozier Song, M/M, Magnus reflects on the way that Alec moves, i love that that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyoung_50/pseuds/Lyoung_50
Summary: As beautiful as his husband was when he was moving, there was nothing quite like the quiet moments when he had his arms wrapped around the man he loved, and his embrace was enough to quiet the restlessness that lived in him.





	Move Me, Baby (Shake Like The Bough of A Willow Tree)

He’d seen Alec move before. 

He moved like Atlas, with the weight of the world settled on his broad shoulders and weighing down each step he took. 

He was always moving, constant and steady as any other natural force. Like all of the energy that he stored up throughout the day wasn’t able to be harnessed and had to be released in the subtle shifting of muscle and bone under tanned, ruined skin. 

He'd seen him moving under the gold of the tuxedo that he’d almost married a woman he didn’t love in, his shoulders a taught line of tension and anxiety. He’d watched his clenching around words that had been unspoken, and the bob of his Adam’s apple when he’d swallowed hard and made his decision. He'd felt more than seen the way that his jaw had worked as he'd kissed him, passionately and without reserve, in front of every person in the world that he cared about heedless of the consequences. 

There had been the way that he’d moved on the balcony of his apartment after he’d been possessed. The bunching and sinew of tendons in his hands as he pushed on the bleeding and torn skin. The swivel of his head to turn miserable, aching eyes to look at him with a silent plea to help him know exactly what he was supposed to do. 

He’d seen the stretch of muscle when he’d dipped his head for a kiss. The lean muscle of his neck and the tendons that curled over his shoulders under threadbare t-shirts. The slide of slim, graceful, archer’s fingers into the lapels of his jacket to pull him into the kiss. 

There was the constant movement of his hands as he spoke. They sliced through the air to punctuate a point, or they whirled in absent circles to help move his train of thought along while he tried to find his way through a sentence. His favorite was the way that his fingertips found their way under his chin to bring their gazes together as he spoke in hushed tones into the space between them. 

He’d seen the way that he cradled a scared warlock child to his chest, protecting her from the melee around them and whispering hushed reassurances into her ear. His large hand had cupped the back of her head, holding her fast to him as he wove around sparks of magic and sprays of ichor. He'd used the back of his fingers to brush the tears from her chubby cheeks outside of the homestead that they'd been in as he knelt in front of her and told her that he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her and that she shouldn't be ashamed of her beautiful, lavender-colored magic. 

He moved so effortlessly with his parabatai, their steps never seeming to falter around one another, in battle or simply in existing. He and Jace were like two magnets, counterbalancing enough to keep the other in close proximity but never quite colliding despite how closely they moved together. When Jace needed him, he was always across the space between them in a shockingly small number of steps, his arms wound around Jace to comfort him without words needing to be spoken to ask for the gesture. 

He moved like a force of nature when he was in battle, his hands moving swiftly to send his arrows through all that wanted to do his family harm with a righteous fury. He was truly a force to be reckoned with as his muscles flexed and moved gracefully, propelling him into deadly, fluid motion. He was like a crouched tiger, all power and stealth, stalking through the tall grass and ready to spring forward as soon as the time was right. 

He moved like a rolling wave under the silk sheets of their bed, an ebb and flow against his own body that was always in perfect rhythm. He moved with a confidence and ease that wasn’t always easy for him. When his nails dug into his shoulder and his forehead pressed to his neck with his mouth dropped open in silent ecstasy, there was nothing more perfect. 

Even with that knowledge, he’d still never seen him move like he was. 

There was sweat clinging to the runed skin of his arms as he moved. It was all consuming and the movement of every single muscle was like a beacon of perfection, drawing him closer. He walked silently across the room, stopping a few feet away to continue taking in the sight in front of him. 

He was mesmerizing, the way his fingers moved over the strings. It was evident as the slipped and slid along the metal that there was blood welling on his fingertips. He’d obviously been playing for far too long. 

His throat bobbed and strained as he pushed the lyrics out with heartbreaking sincerity, his eyes closed, and his chest heaved with ragged breaths around the words. The shine of his wedding band caught in the low light of the room and immediately drew his gaze. 

His husband was beautiful and the way he moved never failed to make something shake loose in his heart but watching him put everything he had into the guitar across his lap as the song came to a haunting close was enough to send chills down his arms. 

“You’re staring again, Magnus.” Alec had whispered, his hand flat on the guitar, not bothering to swivel on the stool to face him. 

“You’re beautiful, as always.” The blush that moved up the back of his neck was deep and swift. Magnus stepped forward and slipped his arms around his shoulders. “You move me, Alexander.” 

As beautiful as his husband was when he was moving, there was nothing quite like the quiet moments when he had his arms wrapped around the man he loved, and his embrace was enough to quiet the restlessness that lived in him.


End file.
